supermomdoesntlivehere

Because motherhood will never be a perfect science

Baby Girl’s birthday 

Another birthday has come and gone. Baby girl is now seven years old. Say what now?I guess I really shouldn’t be calling her ‘baby’ but I don’t care…she’s still my little one. I have no more toddlers following me around the house, hugging me with sticky fingers and giving me wet kisses. I look at her and see a blend of the young lady she is becoming and the toddler she once was. Sharp wit in a child that still wants uppies in the morning. She’s a momma’s girl and I’m Ok with that. I’m not ready to let go. I’m still allowed to kiss her in public for goodness sake. I’ve got to milk this thing for all its worth! 

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Soccer mom newbie 

I don’t think I’m cut out to be a soccer mom. I don’t get why my daughter has to be out 3 nights a week to practice plus a game every Saturday. Yes, she’s in rep soccer,  but these are kids not professional athletes. Yes, she’s developing her skills and she had already outgrown the recreational league…but did I mention these are just kids? I love watching her play. I can’t believe this natural athlete came from my body. I was probably the least athletic of any of my friends. Not a fast runner or any type of sports phenom. Unless you count reading as a sport. So I thoroughly enjoy seeing the Soccer Diva race across the field to score and take on girls twice her size without fear or forethought. I am amazed by her. But I’m also her mother and I see when she’s pretending to be okay after being knocked down by that girl bigger than her because the only thing she can do to stop her is knock my baby down. I see the exhaustion as she drops her gear at the door and I help her up the stairs and into the shower. At those times I wonder if this is worth it. She’s always been one to play hard and competition is second nature to her. So she is always sore and tired when she gets home. But is that normal?  Is it okay? I question myself regularly. But she loves it. Everything. Practice and the games. She wants to be a professional soccer player. She wants to play in the Olympics. Her  father tells me she’s fine and her body will adjust but should we really be waiting for these children to adjust to schedules many of us probably couldn’t handle?  I talk to her regularly and let her know that if she ever feels that this is something she no longer wants to do she only has to come to me and that will be that,  no matter what anyone (including Daddy) has to say. But so far she loves it and I’ve left it at that but I’m keeping a close eye on her.

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Slow as Molasses

Whoever came up with this saying didn’t know Baby girl. The word slow is an understatement to put it mildly. This child has no care to rush for ANYTHING. Picture the mornings…it hurts me to think of it especially since it’s only Monday.  The child will tell me 3 stories and show me 2 boo boos, explain why she hasn’t yet brushed her teeth and tattle tale on her sister each morning to use up at least a good 20 minutes of each morning. It’s enough to make me want to pull my hair out. Only when I’m on the verge of a total momma meltdown will she speed up from a slow walk to a quaint skip. The crazy thing is that it truly is a part of her make up. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself so I don’t send her packing  (to Nana’s house of course ). But even the way she was born was slow…I wouldn’t dilate! The OB-GYN was baffled since my first delivery was literally 5 hours including labour and the birth  (totally not bragging); and even though it was still a relatively short labour (6 1/2 hours), it should have been my first clue that this child had her own internal schedule.

But I’m not the only one that sees it. Her nickname in her kindergarten after school program was ‘slowpoke’ (only her favourite program director called her that). When she was leaving kindergarten and transferring schools in grade one, her kindergarten teacher gave her the book ‘The Tortoise and the Hare”. See what I mean?

But as slow as she can be some days she is also very much like that tortoise in the book…very determined. Whether it’s early potty training, progressing to chapter books, learning to jump rope or drive her mother crazy; that child never waivers…she takes it slow.

Slow as molasses.

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Another Mother’s Day 

Here’s to hoping you all had a wonderful Mother’s day or you made it a special day for any mother figures in your life.

I love the breakfast  (not in bed) and the handmade crafts and cards that say “You’re the Best Mom Ever!” I love the extra hugs and kisses and being able to sit for five minutes and feel like a queen.

Yup…

Before the sibling quarrels kick in and the hubby is cranky from “slaving over a hot stove” and mom duties must be resumed…

Sigh…

I vote for Mother’s WEEK. One day just isn’t enough. 

Who’s with me?

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Finally…but not quite

You know the excitement you feel when the kids are finally in bed and you actually have a chance to do something for yourself?

Read that book

Write that story

Watch that movie

Call that friend

Then you wake up at 3:30 in the morning and realize you fell asleep on the couch as soon as you sat down.

I think that’s known as an ‘epic fail’…

…or motherhood. 

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New Year 2017

Here we are in a new year!

It’s 2017! How amazing is that? 

We survived…

Another year of parenting our beautiful children. The babies,  school agers, preteens and teenagers. 

Tantrums, tears, runny noses, boo boos, rebellion, little spills, big messes, sibling fights and the temporary loss of your sanity…on a fairly consistent  basis.

We did it.

…and now we get to do it again for another year.

Stop crying and get a glass…I’ll get the wine. 

Happy new year! 🙂

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Another One Out!

Attention! Baby Girl lost the other front tooth!  I repeat…the other tooth is out!
Never mind how cute she looks and the fact that she lisps when she talks (Omg…it’s so cute!)
Let’s focus on the financial strain this child is placing on the…um…Tooth  Fairy.
Have you no compassion?
Where’s the nearest ATM?
In case the Tooth Fairy wants to know…of course.

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I Quit

To whom it may concern,

Please take this letter as my official two weeks notice. I hereby resign from my position as mom, mommy,  mama, problem solver, janitor, advisor, wife and keeper of everyone’s sanity.
I will be taking a well deserved month long vacation to recuperate. Please do not offer me a better salary as no amount of money can tempt me to continue to convince, cajole, cry and chastise. I will no longer kiss boo boos, soothe disappointments and referee squabbles. I am through scrubbing up stains,  picking up toys and locating lost items that are really really needed at the last minute. I quit I tell you. I will not succumb to wet kisses, strong hugs, precocious smiles and ‘I love you’. I’m sorry but I am thoroughly immune to all attempts to get me to remain in this position. I will be vacating my present accommodations in a timely manner after I snuggle with two very cute children (aka my daughters). However do not take this for a sign of weakness. I’m really leaving this time. I mean it.

Yours truly,
Tired, fed up mom

P.s. just hold onto this for the next time I pack it in.

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Back to School 2015

Two more sleeps until school starts…
Two more sleeps until my children are back to a routine
Two more sleeps until I can stop spending cases of money to keep them occupied
Two more sleeps people!
Are they prepared?
Who cares?!
I sure am!

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The Diva

I can’t believe it’s March already.
That means just over a month until the Diva’s birthday once again.
Eight years old!
Seriously?
Soccer, basketball, Pokemon and video games.
A little pink is now acceptable and a little nail polish is desired.
No dresses but skirts are okay.
Still loves her running shoes but would like a pair of dress shoes for special occasions.
No barbie dolls except when she is playing with her sister.
She can belch like a boy (sigh) but sing that damn Frozen song with the best of them.
She’s got swagger and she’s still my baby.

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